


Did I cross a line?

by Notasmuch



Category: British Actor RPF, British Comedian RPF
Genre: BDSM, Gangbang, Humiliation, M/M, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-05
Updated: 2011-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notasmuch/pseuds/Notasmuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon did a bad, bad thing and is being punished. But Martin can make even that pleasurable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did I cross a line?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for kink_bingo. Betaed by [anemptymargin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin), all remaining mistakes are very much my own.
> 
> The story contains BDSM with special focus on dominance/submission, punishment, humiliation, sharing (gangbang) and outdoors sex, all consensual, but part of it is punishment so the sub isn't just doing his favorite things.
> 
> There is also mention of some self-image issues.

Simon took a lot more time undressing than he normally would have. Every sleeve took an eternity, even bending to take his socks off was a process. As if his bones were suddenly 80 years old and he had to be careful with them.

His blood felt like it was tingling, and if his cock was getting harder, Simon could barely understand why.

Martin was just leaning on the sink letting him do it. Taking his time and processing it all. But Simon knew it was no favour, Martin just liked letting him anticipate, letting him melt into his head and into the punishment at his own pace.

The Punishment. He took a deep breath as the word stretched across his body.

When he was finally naked, his arms firmly at his sides and not trying to cover any part of him, as much as he wanted to, Martin just cocked his head and looked at him.

Simon knew that was the brilliance of every one of Martin's punishments. They managed to be exactly what he wanted and still put him in the most uncomfortable position possible.

Because Simon loved the way Martin looked at him, with heat and interest and affection. But he really fucking hated standing naked and silent and being looked at. If he could talk... well, if he could talk he could draw attention away from his body and who he was and just be outrageous.

But he could never do that with Martin properly. Could never really shock him or distract him.  
Because Martin loved things about him Simon's own mother probably couldn't. He loved his smart mouth and his sarcastic, sometimes hurtful humour. Martin liked his social awkwardness and things he would blurt out when uncomfortable and he never once looked at Simon like he was a disappointment when Simon laughed nervously and needlessly in front of Martin's friends.

So Simon always knew Martin was looking at him more than anyone else, but he hated standing naked and just letting it happen. He wanted to open his mouth and break another rule but he was in enough trouble already.

He flinched when Martin touched him, even though he saw it coming. It got him a smile but no comment while Martin's hands kept touching his chest and hips and belly. He felt ridiculous when his breathing sped up; knowing Martin could feel it under his hands. And Martin knew it all, of course he did, but he had never once let Simon off the hook and wasn't about to start now.

Martin kissed the edge of his jaw and Simon turned just enough for their lips to meet. Distraction. The kiss was quick but sweet and for a moment he forgot how incredibly naked he was.

Then Martin nodded towards the shower and Simon knew he would hate this part the most. It was the first real part of the punishment and no amount of love Martin showed him could erase that.

The water was perfect, the soap his favourite, the bathroom one where he spent enough time it was like his own. But he wasn't allowed to close the curtain and Martin was there, against the sink, watching.

His arms couldn't quite coordinate, he dropped the shampoo and kept trying to turn so Martin couldn't see what Simon didn't want him to, but the smirk on that expressive face kept saying he couldn't really hide anything.

So he tried to focus on the reason for the punishment, as he knew he should be. Thinking about the rules he broke and why this punishment and not some other and how he could make sure it never happened again. Surprisingly, it didn't really help.

It all started two whole weeks ago, when Simon visited the Sherlock shoot in their 221b flat in London, and had maybe gotten a little carried away with Benedict Cumberbatch's long, thin body. He knew he was being painfully obvious, but he also knew Martin wouldn't mind. Not because Martin wasn't the jealous type, he actually had a bit of a temper, but because Simon was attracted to a lot of people, but he only really loved one, and they both knew it.

So while Martin was in the corner, building up anger for Sherlock's lack of emotion, Simon came up to Benedict and did his whole "hi I'm awkward but maybe you'll find me adorable anyway and oh god I hope I don't spill anything on you" thing. It went pretty well because Benedict was actually laughing at his jokes. Simon suspected it had something to do with prolonged exposure to Martin. On both their ends.

He felt his phone buzz and took a quick, barely interested glance at it then choked, fumbled, dropped it and took a better look after picking it up.

 _From Martin:_   
_You should stand a bit closer if you want him to really notice you._

Simon looked back, but Martin seemed busy listening to someone explain how the light would be hitting him in the scene.

He put the phone away and took a step closer. Benedict tilted his head down a bit but didn't move away, and now Simon could smell Sherlock's expensive suit and what was probably just Benedict, but made him want to be even closer.

His phone buzzed again and he was prepared, but his head still blanked out for a moment when he read _Good boy_. He swayed a bit, trying not to turn around and jump his boyfriend.

Benedict touched his shoulder to draw his attention back and Simon kept on talking and flirting awkwardly and the phone lay in his pocket, pressing into his thigh like a brand.

That night Martin was too tired to do anything, but he made Simon wank himself off while talking about what he wanted to do with Benedict. It was, somehow, the filthiest thing he ever did, and since Martin helped him get comfortable with his submissive side, he did a lot of things he couldn't remember without blushing.

He visited the set a few more times that week, and every time Martin messaged him, instructing him how to be even more obvious. He was told to touch Benedict's arm and not let go until Martin walked up to them; to sit with his leg pressed against Benedict’s until either of them absolutely had to get up; he was told what to say a few times too - "I really like your hair" and "your fingers are so long" stuck out as the creepiest.

But Benedict didn't seem to mind. He would let Simon stand close and touch as much as he wanted to and would nod and smile shyly no matter which ridiculous part of him Simon was complimenting.

None of those things were what had gotten him in trouble though. No, it was the last day, when he somehow found himself with nothing but a button down shirt to wear and he couldn't miss another day on set, playing the game he couldn't really figure out.

It started like always, no longer quite as awkward but still exciting and tempting. He stood too close, talked too softly, touched too much. And Benedict answered like always, accepting the flirting but not taking it further.

The first message came just a few minutes into the conversation.

 _From Martin:  
Undo your top button._

He tried to be suave about it, but he fumbled a bit as always and Benedict's eyes caught on his fingers and the patch of skin that showed before Simon could distract him.

A few minutes later his phone buzzed again.

 _From Martin:  
Another._

Again he couldn't do it without drawing attention, but at least Benedict's smile never faltered.

There were two more messages with the same content and now Simon had started to feel awkward, because there was a thin line between "it's hot in here" and "let me just take this off and show you my chest."

When the phone buzzed again he swallowed before reading the same message and then closed his eyes briefly. He couldn't.

He turned around, expecting to see Martin busy like he had been every time before, but this time all his focus was on Simon, and when he turned around to Benedict again, he saw a smile and expectation there too.

And that was when he realized he was being played all along. Benedict wasn't just a random someone who thought Simon had an unhealthy affection for his phone and no concept of personal space. He was in on it with Martin, playing with him.

Martin would later explain it wasn't a cruel game, that neither of them would ever mock Simon, that if anything, Benedict wanted more. He would say he was sorry he hadn't taken it up with Simon first.

But in that moment Simon didn't know any of that. His mind went red for a while and he was torn between hurt and anger for just long enough to see Martin frown. In retrospect, going up to Martin and hitting him would have been a better reaction. Instead, he turned around and grabbed Benedict's shirt, pulling himself up enough to kiss him. Or really, stuck his tongue in Benedict's mouth in front of the entire crew of Sherlock.

When he pulled back and looked at Martin, he knew he was screwed. His boyfriend was still and focused, just a finger tapping against his thigh. He had a temper, yes, but he was never more terrifying than when he controlled it.

**

Martin watched as Simon turned away from him to wash his cock and balls. It was pointless not only because there was a mirror on the side so he could see it all anyway, but also because bent as he was and with his legs spread just a bit, Simon's ass was on a lovely display. Martin wanted to touch, but he knew better than to distract Simon from the discomfort he was feeling now.

It didn't really matter though, because the next thing, the one Simon had been avoiding since he stepped into the shower, was cleaning his ass. And there was absolutely no elegant or secret way to do that. Martin stopped smiling. It was punishment, yes, but Simon had issues he didn't want to play with. So while Simon blushed and bent and stretched he looked and loved from afar, but didn't laugh or smile or offer ridiculous phrases. It was awkward, yes, but it was his, just like Simon.

When Simon was done and he’d stepped out looking like a wet, angry kitten, Martin allowed himself to smile again. Then he wrapped him up in a big towel, dried him off and kissed him until the annoyed mask slipped from Simon's face completely. He was melting against Martin in that perfect way that made Martin hard but also had his heart beating faster.

There were a few things in the world quite as beautiful as Simon naked, calm and pliant in his arms. Martin suddenly wanted to cancel the whole thing, drag his lover to bed and stay there all day. Simon didn't seem like he would mind, his hands were tugging on Martin's shirt and he kept getting impossibly closer while they kissed.

But he made plans, and if he couldn't really remember them now, he knew they were supposed to be very interesting. So he broke the kiss and pushed Simon towards the room.

"It's warmer in there. No need to put anything on." He looked at Simon to make sure he understood it was an order and kissed him one more time. "I'll text you when we're ready."

Martin always loved finding ways to combine punishment with pleasure. For him, BDSM was a game. One with rules and players, yes, but always fun. If there was no fun to be had, what was the point of playing?

So when Simon broke a major rule and kissed someone without permission, Martin knew the punishment had to fit the crime.

If he could, Simon would have sex in the dark, or at least blindfold the other person so they couldn't see him. He never took long in front of the mirror simply because he would give up after a while, saying it couldn't be helped anyway. Martin mostly kissed his desperation away and told him he was delusional, but now... well, now his hatred of people _seeing him_ would come in handy. And if Martin got really lucky, maybe the punishment would even help with it a bit.

Balancing that with the positive wasn't easy. Benedict, of course, because he was everything Simon would want if he wasn't in love with Martin; Iwan, because Martin saw the way they smiled at each other; and Richard, because he was in town and Martin really wanted to see Simon try to take his dick on either end.

He made sure everyone was there and played the good host long enough to feel Simon's nerves reaching him from the second floor, then he sent the text. A simple "come."

They were waiting for him in the garden, sitting around a table, cold drinks at hand and a high hedge hiding them from the world, mostly.

When Simon came out he was red in the face and walked like he was just learning how. For a moment Martin wanted to take him back in and let him hide forever.

But he was a sight, long limbs and pale skin, dark nipples and a beautiful cock. Martin saw he wasn't the only one thinking it.

Simon looked at everything but directly at them. He looked at the tops of the hedge, trying to see across it, even though Martin made sure he couldn't. No one could. He looked up and around and Martin remembered numerous conversations they’d had about this.

 _"They have satellites now that record your every move! Do you really want everyone to know you hold orgies at your house!?"_

 _..._

 _"What if a paparazzo chooses to jump over the fence and my ass is the first thing he sees!?"_

 _"You overestimate my fame, love."_

 _..._

 _"What will your neighbours say!?"_

 _"They can't see us."_

 _"You can't be sure!"_

 _"I can, it was one of the things I made sure of when I was buying the place."_

 _"Satellites!"_

Martin knew he failed to hide his smile when Simon looked at the skies again, so he just mouthed "satellites" at him instead.

He got a proper smile for that, and he took it as his cue and nodded at Benedict.

Benedict got up and stood in front of Simon, his clothes somehow emphasizing the size difference between them. "Why don't we give that kiss another try?"

Martin saw Simon shiver; Benedict's voice had that effect on some people. Just watching them kiss got Martin to spread his legs a bit wider. Benedict was clearly taking his time, opening Simon's lips slowly and teasing until Simon pressed closer and started kissing back, finally losing track of where he was. He moaned and rubbed himself against Benedict's jeans and Martin saw the other two men squirm in their seats. He gave them a nod too and settled back to watch the show.

He told them all that they had to leave their clothes on. It was a warm day and they were all in short sleeves and he figured that would be enough skin for Simon. He just blew a kiss when Simon tugged on Iwan's shirt and was told that no, their clothes weren't coming off.

Iwan's happy laughter brought Simon's attention back to him. “Your boyfriend is devious,” Iwan said. Simon just sighed, long suffering, because he was still not allowed to talk.

Richard and Benedict were busy touching and kissing every available part of Simon's body while he was pressed against Iwan. He turned and twisted to make sure he was touched as much as possible at once. All thoughts of someone seeing him were gone when the need settled in.

Then it was Richard's turn to kiss him, and when Simon rubbed against him with his whole body, even though he barely knew the man, Martin felt the heat finally hit his dick properly.

They were three distinct personalities, and Martin watched as Simon learned and adapted.  
Richard often forgot his own strength and pulled and grabbed just a hint too strongly. He kissed with his teeth and held with his nails. Simon always broke away from his kisses first, struggling to breathe and holding on like he might fall any moment.

Iwan was thrilled by it all, by the possibilities, and he was as clumsy and as lovely as Simon, exploring his new toy. He was thrilled to find out how sensitive Simon's nipples were, and made sure Simon was close to begging before he gave him a break.

Benedict didn't know how not to be sensual. He explored Simon's body and watched carefully until every touch and kiss had Simon arching towards him for more and his whispered words kept making Simon's breathing stutter. It was a gift. Sherlockian in some ways, Martin thought. Benedict somehow always found the one thing that made a person's blood go hot, and then he'd describe it in great detail. Martin knew, because even though he had never touched Benedict - wouldn't without talking to Simon – his friend always liked to start a scene with whispering something into his ear and getting him to mess up the entire shot.

With Iwan's teeth on his chest, Richard's lips taking his breath away, and Benedict whispering filth in his ear, Simon went down on his knees on the blanket in no time and for a moment Martin's eyes caught his, dark and happy and grateful. Then someone grabbed his chin and brought him into another kiss and the contact was gone but Martin knew there was no shyness left in Simon now.

Their hands and lips moved over Simon in a kind of coordinated dance, finding all the perfect places, teasing and giving, letting him fall apart slowly. His head was thrown back and his legs spread wide, inviting them to touch him more, closer, deeper.

Richard sat behind him, holding him up when he couldn't sit himself any more, and Martin saw him rub his back against Richard, arch his ass towards Richard's crotch. It was too much for his friend who finally gave up and undid his zip, letting his dick rub against Simon's ass.

Simon was still on his knees and Benedict spread his legs wider, stroked the smooth skin inside the one thigh and pinched the other one violently. Martin could see it all, but he saw Simon go wild, torn between sliding against Richard's dick and pushing into Benedict's caress and away from the pain. Then Iwan took what was left of his concentration with a forceful kiss that wouldn't end.

Martin choked down his own moan and twisted his jeans until they cut into his balls painfully so his erection subsided a bit. _Not yet._

Iwan was the next to open his zip, he pulled his dick out, and it got Simon's attention amidst all the new pain and pleasure Benedict was giving, this time to his nipples.

Simon pulled Iwan closer and started licking the head, opening his mouth invitingly.

Martin saw Richard take the lube and slick his fingers, and the long moan around Iwan’s dick let him know when a finger finally slid inside Simon. Richard asked something and Simon nodded carefully, not letting Iwan go.

Benedict laughed and called Simon greedy loud enough that Martin could hear him and he noticed Simon's arm moving just as Benedict made himself more comfortable, his trousers clearly being opened.

His love always took whatever was given, and then asked for more. He smiled and got a knowing smirk from Richard in return. Richard leaned down for a while, whispered something into Simon's ear that no one could hear but it had Simon locking his eyes with Martin again, his mouth full of cock but his face falling like he was struggling not to come. Clearly, Richard could be devious too.

Richard prepared Simon, but then moved to the front and Martin saw both Iwan and Simon gape at the long, thick dick in front of them. Richard didn't ask, he just tilted Simon's head and started pushing into his mouth.

It was Benedict who fucked Simon first, making him choke on Richard’s dick with one long, slow push.

Iwan looked down at Simon's hardon, thick and wet and neglected, so red even Martin could see it between their legs, and went down to take Simon into his mouth, causing him to come almost instantly. Benedict and Richard didn't pay any attention, except to groan when Simon's body tightened around each of them.

Richard and Iwan took their turns in Simon's mouth until Benedict came in a few hard strokes that had Simon deep-throating Richard. Then he stilled, leaving a small mark on the back of Simon's shoulder with his teeth. When he was sure the skin would bruise, he winked at Martin. That was okay. Martin wanted Simon to remember Benedict.

Richard grabbed for a condom and pulled Simon's head back by his hair. “Would you like to take me next?”

Simon gulped but nodded enthusiastically and even smiled at Iwan before taking him back into his mouth. He had to let go though and press his face into Iwan's hip when Richard started entering him. His eyes were open wide and he was staring at Martin across Iwan's skin. It was too much for Martin, he had to open his pants and give his dick some air or he would injure himself. But he wanted Simon for himself when it was all done, and he couldn't do it if he came now.

Then he watched his lover writhe between two men sucking and choking and pushing back into every sharp thrust he received. He was moaning around Iwan's cock, so full and happy he never even lost his erection.

"Fuck, Martin, his ass, his tight fucking ass you lucky bastard," Richard moaned loudly. Personally, Martin thought any ass would be tight to Richard, but he agreed Simon's was pretty spectacular.

Benedict recovered somewhat and he slid between Iwan and Simon, opening his mouth to let Simon thrust into it.

Martin knew it would all be over soon, and he gave his cock a sharp little squeeze, just enjoying the view. Simon satisfied and cared for, and still all his, breaking out of his comfort zone and loving every moment of it, because of Martin.

He heard Richard groan and saw him pause, make a few more quick jabs before his head fell on Simon's shoulder. He kissed it gently, stayed inside Simon and kept making these tiny circular movements that both pushed Simon's mouth on Iwans's cock and kept him in Benedict's.

They all took a few minutes, just breathing and soaking up the sun, before they cleaned up and started leaving, as arranged. Martin just covered his cock up with his shirt as he went to show them out.

He paused on his way inside to kiss Simon, spread across the blanket, quickly.

"On your back, hands behind your head, knees up, legs spread. I want those satellites zooming in on you like they don't care if there is no tomorrow."

When he came back Simon was in the right position, if a bit more relaxed than Martin imagined. His eyes were closed and his knees were drooping down, but it was wonderful seeing him spread out like that in the sun.

Martin enjoyed the view for a while, then took his clothes off and settled right between those warm legs. Simon smiled and opened his eyes lazily, clearly loving the feeling of skin on skin.

Martin kissed him deeply, tasting come and Simon. His fingers teased Simon's hole and found it wet and easy to slip into.

"You were beautiful."

Simon just smiled, but he tilted his head a bit towards the sun, like he was really okay with Martin saying that right now.

The next kiss was sloppy and Martin broke it just to say "I love you."

"So much," Simon replied and wrapped his arms around him tightly.

Martin pulled a condom on. He couldn't wait any more. "Safeword if it gets too much."

Simon just made a humming noise and Martin decided to be extra careful anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> None of these people belong to me and none of what I wrote is true. I mean no offense and am doing this for fun, not profit.
> 
> The title belongs to Nine Inch Nails.


End file.
